


The Only Possible Princess

by megankelly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megankelly/pseuds/megankelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin and Gwen meet to talk in the fields after a long day at work, Merlin means to comfort Gwen about Lancelot leaving, but what really needs to be addressed are Merlin and Gwen's feelings for each other. Takes place after episode 5 of the first series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Possible Princess

Merlin and Gwen met out in the field. It was a relatively new tradition—only a few weeks old—but it had become a consistent one, though their work days finished after it was dark and it would be much more sensible for them to get as much rest as they could. They simply enjoyed talking to each other too much.

Merlin thought it might be because he wasn’t used to Camelot yet. At home, he had his friends. He had his mom. In Camelot, Gwen was the only person Merlin really had—besides Gaius, of course, though talking to him was a distinctly different experience than chatting with the pretty maidservant in the moonlight.

Normally, they kicked off their meetings by discussing their days. Usually, Gwen started with an optimistic overview of hers, and Merlin contributed a comedy act lampooning the prince which often sent Gwen into giggles, though she always ended with admonishments: _He’s the prince. You know you respect him, Merlin_. That night their talk was stilted. And Merlin knew why.

“I’m sorry Lancelot left,” Merlin said, as soon as he found the right pause.

Gwen looked down at the ground. He was the last person on earth she wanted to talk to about Lancelot.

After a second, she said, “I hardly knew him, Merlin. It’s not like how I know you.” Another second’s pause. She added, “Not that I’m saying I know everything about you or anything. Or that I know you more than other people do. I just know—I just know you’re a good guy, Merlin. That’s all.” Blushing, she directed her gaze back at the grass.

“You’re still keeping up that lie about not liking him?” He laughed. “Come on, Gwen, it was so obvious!”

At this point, she wanted to punch him.

“You didn’t enjoy it? Even a little bit? The way he looked at you and kissed your hand? He was a knight—at least for a while anyway, a knight who had taken a liking to you.”

“I don’t need a knight, Merlin,” she said, her voice both quiet and fierce. Merlin bit his lip, sensing that he had taken his playfulness a bit too far this time. “And yes,” she continued, “maybe I did like him or could’ve liked him, if he were still here, or maybe—I don’t know. And sure, I liked having someone look at me like he looked at me, the way that…well, the way some people look at Morgana. But he isn’t here, Merlin.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin repeated.

They were silent for a few more moments. Gwen plucked grass a blade at a time. She rubbed each blade between her fingers before letting it drop to the ground.

“You know, he’s not the only person who will ever look at you that way.” Gwen snorted and was promptly horrified with herself, but Merlin was not horrified. He laughed kindly before facing her more directly; he was determined to look into her eyes until she was looking back at him. “Really. You’re pretty and sweet and fun. I bet there are a bunch of men looking at you just like that and you don’t even have a clue. Until one day…you will. And you’ll see some strapping, big, strong, save-the-world type—”

“I don’t-”

“I know, I know. Fine, some skinny, ordinary, servant type. You’ll see him looking right at you, like Lancelot did, looking at you like you’re the most extraordinary woman he’s ever met, like you’re better even than a king’s ward—like you’re a princess, the only possible princess there ever could’ve been.”

He had more but was stopped by the look in Gwen’s eyes. He suddenly realized that Gwen, as much as his brain had been denying it, was looking at him the very way he was describing (well, except for the princess part). Even more suddenly, he realized that he liked looking into her eyes and that she was looking back as if he were someone worthwhile. He had an urge to reveal his true magical self. If anyone would ever accept him for it, it would be her. But soon magic was off his mind and he was thinking more about this moment. It was a pivot, and he could feel his emotions revolving underneath him. In a second, circumstances could follow, and he could do something with Gwen that he might regret…or something that might pleasantly surprise him.

“Merlin,” she said with a sad smile, “you’re good at talking.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then dropped it immediately. Gwen looked at the ground. Though Merlin couldn’t see it, her shocked expression was much like his own. Her shock was at Merlin’s actions and at the possibility that might be lying underneath. His was at this sudden uprising of feeling, his inability to control himself. After regaining her composure, Gwen looked up again and smiled warmly at Merlin, as if to tell him, _all is well, I’m not freaking out or reading into this too far at all_. He watched her, though, unconsciously rubbing the place his lips had touched.

He grabbed her face and kissed her with all of the surprised passion that had been in her kiss that night when he had lived. And this kiss was more than “more than fine,” it was everything a kiss should be, especially one born from epiphany, from a place of, _She’s the only possible princess there ever could’ve been_.


End file.
